


Polaroid pictures

by errantknightess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fill, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: A collection of captured moments, stashed inside a box with no rhyme or reason.(AKA random drabbles)
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 39
Kudos: 65





	1. Frozen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this screenshot](https://twitter.com/DavnereCaelum/status/1337902248647659520) by Davnere

They don’t even get a warning.

One moment, they’re in the middle of the desert, sweating under the blazing sun; in the next, the rusty sand turns silvery blue and the open space hazes over with sparkling icy dust. Noct is just a stone’s throw away, but Prompto can barely see him now. The sudden blizzard builds up and swirls around him as Shiva graciously answers the call.

Prompto has been caught up in more than a few unfortunate applications of ice magic; he’s caused half of them himself, taking the brunt of the biting cold from flasks exploding in his hands. But this – this is so much _more_. The raw, primal kind of cold from a time before the sun.

Shiva is on _their_ side. She’s come to their aid, as crazy and incredible as it is. She’s made it clear she wouldn’t hurt the Chosen King or his companions. But she’s also a freaking goddess. She probably doesn’t even realize how immense she is to a mere mortal.

Prompto curls in on himself, shivering. The ice prickles his skin with tiny needles, seizes his throat and lungs with every breath. His awe and wonder do little to take his mind off that. He’s witnessing a literal miracle, and yet he can’t wait for it to be over.

And when it _is_ , he can’t feel it right away. He can’t feel much of anything, really. His body is rigid like the blood’s turned solid in his veins, and even if he could move, he’s pretty sure he would crack.

“You okay?” Noct jogs up to him, snow crunching under his boots. There’s frost on his eyebrows and his lips are slightly blue. Beyond that, he seems none the worse for wear. Prompto wonders briefly if that’s what it means to be Shiva’s favourite.

“I’m f- f- f-“ He wavers between _fine_ and _freezing_ , but neither makes it past his chattering teeth.

Noct doesn’t wait for him to finish – just grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him in. The guilty look on his face is doubly pathetic between his red nose and watery eyes. He runs his hands up and down Prompto’s arms, rubbing over the bare skin and brushing off the tiny ice crystals that stuck there.

It doesn’t do much when he’s ice-cold himself, but Prompto still feels his body grow warmer from the touch: a familiar, glowing warmth that starts in his chest and spills over his neck and cheeks.

He melts into the embrace, watching over Noct’s shoulder as the desert slowly thaws down. The last few snowflakes flutter around them, and when he looks closer, he sees a pair of wings, a slender figure and the tiny face of the goddess herself.

Before it disappears in a flurry, he could _swear_ it gives him a wink.


	2. Sunflower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptober 2020, day 1: Sunflower  
> cw: implied eating disorder

The loading screen seems frozen in place, so in the meantime Prompto turns to make room on the table. By the time he puts aside all their course books and history notes, Noct emerges from the kitchen with a bag of crisps and a tin of assorted cookies.

“Sorry for the lame snacks,” he says, dumping them in the newly cleared out space. “I didn’t have time to buy any, and Ignis refuses to put them on the list when he goes shopping.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto assures quickly. He hopes he doesn’t sound as relieved as he feels.

It’s all too easy to let his guard down around Noct and fall back into his old habits. The siren call of junk food is not that much of a problem; he has way more trouble saying no to his best friend. At least this time, he doesn’t have to rack his brain for more weak excuses.

“I, uh, actually have my own snacks.” Prompto dives for his backpack and pulls out the remainder of his lunch: a packet of sunflower seeds, a little crushed after the whole day in the front pocket. He waves it cheerfully at Noct and rips it open. “See, I’m all set!”

When he sits back up, Noct is looking at him funny. Prompto can’t quite read his expression. It’s part curious, part puzzled, with something deeper and more weighty hidden behind. He looks away, cheeks burning, and shovels a handful of seeds into his mouth.

That gaze doesn’t waver.

“ _What?_ ”

“Now I get it,” Noct says slowly, dragging the words out as his eyes sweep over him all the way up to the tips of his hair. “The way you look… how you’re always so weird about food… I knew it.”

 _Great. There goes his dignity_. “What do you mean?” he stalls, chewing nervously on the evidence of his stupid issues.

“It’s okay, Prompto. Your secret is safe with me.” Noct leans close, his voice down to a conspiratory whisper. “I won’t tell anyone you’re really a chocobo.”

His face is just a couple inches from Prompto, and _now_ the look on it is crystal clear: a shit-eating grin.

“Dude!” Prompto shoves at him, nearly spilling his seeds, but smiles to match. A different kind of relief bubbles up in his stomach, light and airy.

Noctis doesn’t care, and doesn’t need his excuses after all.


	3. Photoshoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptober 2020, day 2: Photoshoot

In all the years Prompto had known him, Noctis has never looked more regal. Even way before he glances through the viewfinder, he already knows it’s going to be one of the best shots in his life.

Sure, he snaps pictures of Noctis lounging on the sofa all the time, but it’s hardly like _this_. There’s none of that usual four-hour-gaming-marathon slouch to his shoulders. His hair is actually put together for once. The light falling in through the stained glass bay window sets the golden accents on his suit aglow, and the heavy curtain draped behind him frames him just right.

Everything is perfect.

Except Noct won’t stop snickering.

“Dude.” Prompto shoots him a glare over the tripod. “I’m glad you’re having fun, but this is serious business for me!”

“Sorry.” Noctis bites down on his lip, which does nothing to stifle his goofy smile. “It’s just so weird. I mean, it’s great! But weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Prompto shakes his head. “An official photoshoot! I still can’t believe Iggy asked _me_ to do this.”

“You have a solid portfolio.” Noctis shrugs. “Plus, it saves us a lot of trouble. We don’t have to _find_ you first, and you already have a background check. No reason not to let you do it.” He leans back on the cushions and crosses his legs at the ankles, tugging at his pants to keep them from wrinkling.

Prompto sighs.

“If I’m supposed to do this, you have to stop moving around.”

Noctis springs back up, ramrod straight like before. His face is sour. “Can’t you just shoot a candid? You always do that, and they always turn out great.”

“No. This has to be flawless.” Prompto peers into the viewfinder and clicks his tongue at what he sees. “Can you… or wait, I’ll do it myself.”

He strides over and pats down Noct’s shirt collar, smoothing it out where it turned up. Noct’s hair got a bit ruffled, so he fixes that too, gently running his fingers through the dark strands. Even with all the gel, it’s silky soft.

He feels Noct shift, leaning into his touch, and it takes everything from him to pull his hand away. Noctis frowns and turns his head, following him with his eyes.

“Noct.” Prompto puts his hands on Noctis’s shoulders and bends until their noses almost touch. “Please… Don’t move.”

He closes the distance and plants a soft kiss on Noct’s cheek, and _then_ Noctis finally goes still.

Prompto scampers back to his camera, taking the chance to shoot while he stares off into space with a dreamy, faraway gaze.


	4. Tattoos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptober 2020, day 6: Tattoos

Prompto’s never really gone to great lengths to hide it, but it’s not until they start the second term that Noct takes notice.

“What’s this?” he asks, grabbing Prompto’s hand and pulling it up to study the bold black lines across his wrist. “Wait, is that your…”

“My soulmate mark, yeah,” Prompto says, his voice hitching a little as Noct runs his fingers over his skin. “I mean, I guess? I’ve had it ever since I can remember.”

“Oh.” Noctis says flatly. “You’re one of _those_ people.”

Prompto isn’t sure what to make of his tone. “What people?”

“Early bloomers.” Noctis rolls his eyes. “Gladio got his when he was like eight, too. Never stopped rubbing it in my face.”

“I can imagine.” Prompto chuckles nervously. Noct is still holding onto his wrist, and Prompto wonders if he can feel how quick his pulse is. “You still don’t have yours, then?”

“Nope.” Noct keeps his gaze down, clearly embarrassed. His thumb skims over the barcode one last time before he lets go. “I hope it’s something cool like this one.”

Prompto hopes it’s _exactly_ like this one. But he keeps that thought to himself.

* * *

When Noctis finally gets his mark, it’s nothing like this one.

Prompto’s stomach drops as he catches a glance of the fine, elegant lines peeking over his collar. Noct doesn’t call attention to it, but it’s easy to see, showing right through the white fabric of his school uniform shirt.

He swallows his disappointment until he gets back home and spends the rest of the day curled up on his bed, biting the pillow so he doesn’t scream. He only gets up when the sun is starting to set because he needs to go to the bathroom.

And once he’s there, he _does_ scream.

Because peeking over his rumpled collar in the mirror is a gentle curve of fine dark lines that definitely haven’t been there before.

Prompto yanks his shirt down and stares, his heart racing. It’s a sunflower with a tiny crescent moon underneath, just below the dip of his collarbones. Just where he saw Noct’s mark. _Just the same_ as Noct’s mark.

The mark that you only get once in your life.

Prompto’s hand drops to his side, the skin on his wrist suddenly crawling with dread.


	5. Cosplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptober 2020, day 9: Cosplay

The buzz of the festival crowd seeps in through the open balcony door, carried by a warm breeze that makes Prompto’s robes flutter dramatically. It’s a good thing Lestallum is always stifling hot even at night, because this costume doesn’t cover much at all. Noct must be straight up boiling in his – Prompto can’t imagine wearing this many thick layers out here.

But at least Noct isn’t struggling to put it on.

Prompto tugs at the strip of fabric across his chest, trying to tuck it properly in place. It slips back down as soon as he moves his arm. His robes are mostly held up with a bunch of straps and good wishes, and he’s pretty sure it’s all going to come undone if he as much as sneezes.

“Man, how do they manage to do all that fancy parkour dressed like this?” He whines, carefully contorting himself to fasten the last belt on his back. “Half of the assassin training must just be on how to get into these damn things.” He peeks into the mirror and feels around for the buckle, hoping really hard not to pull anything off by accident.

“Hold on.” Noct smooths out his robes and motions at him to turn around. Prompto obeys, biting back a startled yelp as Noct’s fingers skim over his exposed shoulder blade. There’s a faint clink of metal sliding against metal, and then the touch is gone, leaving him unexpectedly cold.

“Good?” Noct leans over Prompto’s shoulder to look at him. “Not too tight?”

“’S fine, thanks.” Prompto nods weakly. It _is_ a little harder to breathe, but he doesn’t think that has anything to do with the belt.

“Great.” Noct’s cheek brushes against his as he smiles. “Then let’s get this party started.”

He grabs Prompto by the elbow – the one place where he doesn’t risk disrupting anything – and pulls him out of the room into the sultry Lestallum night.


	6. Chocobo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptober 2020, day 15: Chocobo

Whenever they stop at the Chocobo Post, Prompto spends every second he can at the pens. The rare occasion when he doesn’t always comes to Noctis as a pleasant surprise. He can’t help but feel oddly flattered that Prompto chooses to hang out with him instead of his beloved birds.

They sit down in his favourite spot, a patch of shadow behind the main barn. Noctis slumps with his back against the wooden wall. The edges of the rough planks dig into his spine, but the earth underneath is blissfully soft and cool. Beside him, Prompto groans and stretches, heels scraping the dry grass. His shoulder presses into Noctis’s and stays there, bony and warm. Noct doesn’t shake it off.

“Man, I needed a break.”

“Yeah. Even if we’re only here to take up more hunts,” Prompto sighs. His fingers tap an agitated rhythm on his knees, like he’s already worried about that. Or maybe it’s just this place. He’s always excited to be here, no matter how many times they come. And they come often, for this exact reason – though Noctis absolutely won’t admit it, even if he suspects Ignis has already caught on to his excuses.

Suddenly, Prompto whips his head around and tugs at his elbow, gently but insistently, trying to point at something with just his eyes.

“Oh my gods, Noct, look at it!”

Noctis looks that way, too: it’s the tiniest chocobo chick he’s ever seen – barely old enough to walk on its own, and still not very good at it.

Prompto squeezes his arm and makes a high-pitched noise that should be definitely beyond human range. The chick replies in kind, regarding him curiously with big black eyes, and then it’s tumbling their way as quickly as its short legs allow.

“Oh yes, come here!” Prompto gasps as the chick scrambles into his lap, nestling cosily over his crossed legs. It chirps again when he starts petting it, gently scratching its fluffy head with two fingers. Noctis can’t tell who’s more delighted here.

“I never thought birds would like being petted that much,” he muses.

“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” Prompto beams. “I think most animals do. It reminds them of their mom preening them. Plus, it probably just feels nice.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Noctis mutters. It definitely looks nice. He wonders idly what it would feel like to pull Prompto’s head in his lap and run his hand through that feathery hair. Which is a silly thought that he shoves deep down the moment it starts to make his cheeks warm.

The chick squirms, pushing into Prompto’s careful touch. He’s trembling with stifled laughter, his arm brushing against Noct’s side, and Noctis thinks he would do anything to keep him like this. He would make them stay here as long as possible – forever – if it meant seeing that smile and those bright eyes every day. Hell, he could buy this whole farm and all these wonderful dumb birds if that’d make Prompto happy.

“Dude, you gotta pet him,” Prompto whispers reverently, leaning into Noctis to nudge the chick closer to him. “He’s like, the softest thing _ever_.”

It really is. Especially on the chest, where the fluff puffs up as Noctis dips his finger into it. The chick seems to love the double attention, and they lay it on generously, patting and stroking and ruffling the golden feathers wherever they reach.

Every now and then, Prompto’s hand runs into his, and Noctis’s stomach tickles as if he’s swallowed a few of those feathers.


	7. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speedwriting challenge with my friend. Prompts: sing, bird, open

Noctis disliked camping for many reasons, but the worst thing was how unforgiving it was for his sleeping habits. Nature didn’t have a snooze button, and no amount of earplugs or blankets over his head could keep out the sounds of the rising day. Once the shrill trills of birds started drilling into his ears, he knew it was over. Grumbling under his breath between yawns, Noct crawled out of his sleeping bag and yanked the tent flap open.

There were no birds out in the rocky expanse of the Leiden desert. It took a moment for his bleary mind to register that. Noct rubbed the sand from his eyes and finally zeroed in on the source of the whistling. Prompto was sitting cross-legged at the edge of the haven, whistling to himself while he cleaned his gun. The early sun cast a golden glow around him, bright like the smile he gave as soon as his eyes caught Noct.

“Morning,” he greeted with a little wave.

Noctis waved back, blinking in the blinding light.

Okay, maybe waking up wasn’t that bad sometimes.


	8. Scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speedwriting challenge, part two! Prompts: scarf, smile, hair

Noct’s sigh comes out in a puff of steam, white like everything around. “Why is it still snowing in the middle of March?”

“I can’t complain.” Prompto shrugs. “It looks pretty and keeps people at home. Easier for me to take some cool shots!”

Noctis can’t complain either. The air is on the biting side of chilly, but it sparks warmth in his chest to see Prompto this excited. He keeps walking in circles alongside the pond, rocking from side to side and crouching down in search for the best angle. His scarf has come undone and trails on the trodden snow, collecting little twigs and leaves that get stuck to the striped wool.

“Hold on.” Noct picks up the fringed end and brushes the debris off. He loops it back on, snug around Prompto’s neck, fingers skimming against the cold skin.

“Thanks.” Prompto smiles into the wool. There’s snow all over his hair, so Noct brushes that off, too.

And then he pulls the scarf away again. Just a little. Just enough to warm Prompto up with something else.


	9. Movie theatre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter request fill for Xell :D  
> "Prompto part times in high school at a multiplex movie theater in Insomnia and sneaks Noct in incognito for action movies!"

First shifts on Wednesdays are always Prompto’s favourite.

It’s by far the easiest time he has at work. They have no special offers that day, it’s the middle of the day in the middle of the week, and unless they get hit with an occasional school trip, things tend to be pretty slow.

This morning is no different. Their only screenings right now are a lame rom-com, an animation feature from some obscure studio, and an action flick nearing the end of its run. It’s been dead since he opened three hours ago. After Prompto ushers a sweet elderly couple into theatre 1, the lobby is practically deserted. The only person left is a guy hanging out by the cardboard cutouts of the animated characters. He’s wearing an oversized black hoodie and a pair of 3D glasses, even though none of the movies are in 3D. And he keeps glancing around, as if waiting for something.

Prompto smiles and waves at him to come over.

“Dude, you know this look just makes you _more_ conspicuous, right?” he laughs.

“Shut up,” the hoodie groans in Noct’s voice. He pulls the glasses off, eyes darting around the quiet waiting area. “What time is it? Can I go in yet?”

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s not keep you out here for too long.” Prompto reaches into his pocket and pulls out Noct’s ticket. He’s taken out his reservation as soon as he clocked in, just like he always does. So far, they’ve been doing a pretty good job keeping Noct away from prying eyes – of both the patrons and Prompto’s coworkers.

He scans the ticket and nods towards theatre number 2. “You’re in here.”

Noct takes the stub. His hand lingers on Prompto’s just long enough to make his breath hitch. “You’re coming too, right?”

It’s not a question.

Prompto glances at the checkout area. No one’s there. No clients. No coworkers to tell on him. Plus, he’s due for his break anyway.

“Just for a bit,” he relents.

Noct smiles as he brushes past him, and with one last nervous look behind, Prompto slips through the door as well.

The ads are already playing, bathing the theatre in a flickering white glow. Prompto’s eyes sweep over the near-empty auditorium as he climbs after Noct to the last row. They always pick the same seats, tucked far away into the corner. Out of the way. Protected by the walls on two sides.

And as it just so happens, with no armrest between them.

Prompto sits down, perched on the edge of the seat. Noct’s glasses are back on, and he keeps the hood up, too. Between that and the dim light, it’s hard to read his face, but Prompto can pretty much _feel_ the agitation that radiates off him.

“I overheard some kids talking about this on the subway,” Noct mutters. “Never got off the train so fast. Come on, I didn’t wait _two months_ just to get spoiled on the way here.”

“Yikes. That’s rough, dude.”

It really is. Prompto has already seen this movie twice, and had to physically stop himself from babbling excitedly at his best friend. He wishes they could share this. It sucks that Noct has to wait until the hype dies down before he can go without having to worry. It’s entirely unfair – but safer this way.

There’ll always be a risk, of course. Cinemas are inherently dangerous, just like most other places where people gather for fun. _Prime assault venues_ , Gladio has called them, and sure, when you think about how easily things can go wrong in a dark, crowded room, it’s a miracle they allow Noct in here at all. Prompto knows half of the sparse audience are Crownsguard in plainclothes – he’s sold them the tickets. But still. You never know.

And that’s why he reasons it’s okay for him to be here, even if he’s _totally_ not supposed to. He knows he’s gonna get chewed out if he’s ever found out. He’d probably lose the job on the spot. It’s worth it, though. He’s ready to risk it just to keep an eye out and let his best friend enjoy the movie in peace.

The lights dim. The hushed voices from below fall silent. The screen goes black, then finally erupts with the production company logo.

“Thanks for doing this.” Noct leans in to whisper over the blaring music. He got rid of the stupid glasses now, and his face is impossibly close. His hand finds Prompto’s in the dark, lacing their fingers together.

Prompto gives it a gentle squeeze. “Sure thing, buddy. Anything for you.”

Noct’s eyes are already glued back to the screen, drinking in the opening sequence. But his grip on Prompto’s hand stays firm, thumb brushing absently back and forth over his knuckles.

Prompto glances at his watch, then at Noct’s intent face, and lets himself relax just a little.

First shifts on Wednesdays are slow, anyway.

And that’s just one of the reasons why they’re his favourite.


	10. Walking the dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter request fill for MathClassWarfare ^^  
> "Noct puts Umbra on a leash (much to the messenger's dismay) so he and Prompto can walk to a dog park to look at dogs without it being weird."  
> Post-Dawn, because of course it is.

It’s all too easy to forget that Umbra is _not_ a regular dog. Even after all those years, Noctis still catches himself thinking of him first and foremost as a beloved pet companion. Or maybe it’s _because_ of all the time they’ve spent together and all the fond memories he carries. Turns out that when the gods have put you through enough shit, divine powers are something you can simply get used to.

Besides, the Messenger never seems more like a normal dog than when he’s trying to remind them that he’s far from it.

“You’re fine with the collar, so why’s the leash such a problem?”

Umbra growls in reply, fur raised on the base of his neck. For every step Noctis takes towards him, he keeps backing up further into the narrow entryway of their flat. His amber eyes pierce Noctis with an offended gaze – a silent warning.

Noctis’s shoulders sag in surrender. His hands drop. The leash hits the floor and trails between his legs as he turns around for support.

All he gets from Prompto is a shrug. “Hey, I get it. I wouldn’t like it, either.”

“Not helping,” Noctis remarks, at the same time as Umbra lets out an approving bark. “And this was _your_ idea to begin with.”

“I know, I know.” Prompto sighs and crouches down, enough to look Umbra straight in the eye. “Look – yeah, this sucks, but can you bear with it just for a little bit? It’s just, it’s _really_ weird to go to the dog park without a dog, you know. Pretty please?”

Umbra stares back, unblinking. Then, he tilts his head to one side, licks his nose, and trots past right up to Noctis.

Of course he’d do this for _Prompto_.

Noct shakes his head with a smile and finally clips the leash on. Umbra sits still the entire time, patiently waiting for them to put on their shoes and jackets. He barks again when Prompto pulls Noct’s beanie down over his eyes. Noctis isn’t sure at which point they started to gang up on him like this. But he doesn’t complain. Not when he’s clearly outnumbered anyway.

Outside, the weather is chilly and crisp – a bright autumn day in full swing. The light has that golden tint to it that’s Prompto’s favourite because of how it makes his photos glow. It’s the same colour as Prompto’s freckles, so it's Noct’s favourite, too.

They walk slowly, giving Prompto plenty of time to take pictures every two steps. Sometimes Noctis stops him to point out a particular building or side street he wants him to capture – something he recognizes from the old days, or at least a ghost of it. He likes looking back at these snapshots later, though he’s careful to never scroll too far back. There’s something bittersweet about watching the city grow and change from day to day, about seeing the proof of all their hard work laid out there before his eyes.

It still makes his chest sting, but a little differently now.

By the time they get to the dog park, Umbra is thoroughly over playing the part of a good boy. As soon as Noctis finds an unoccupied bench for them to sit, the Messenger plops down at their feet and lays his head on his paws, still like a stone statue.

“Aww, you tired, buddy?” Prompto scratches him on the head, to no response at all.

“Tired of our shit, I bet”, Noctis says fondly. Umbra’s eyes dart to him for a moment before falling shut.

They let him sulk for now, and turn their attention to other dogs – they main reason they came here in the first place. They’re mostly big, burly guard dog types, but Prompto is quick to make out a few mixed-breed puppies. Some of them come bounding their way, tripping over their own legs, only to stop short and sniff the air uncertainly before turning tail. Noctis wonders, not for the first time, what exactly they sense on his divine companion.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be bringing him in here after all,” Prompto muses. “I didn’t realize he makes actual dogs so nervous.”

“I think they’re just scared of your goatee,” Noctis quips. It earns him a forceful kiss that’s definitely meant to shut him up. He takes it anyway, pressing a cheeky grin against Prompto’s lips.

When they part, he can’t miss the wistful look that Prompto sends past him.

He’s about to say something when suddenly there’s a tug on the leash. Noct lets it go and watches with surprise as Umbra gets up and starts rummaging through the fallen leaves on the lawn.

“What is it, Umbra?”

Umbra turns around, proudly showing off his discovery.

It’s a stick.

He brings it back over to their bench, wagging his tail lazily. Noctis blinks. He’s never, ever seen Umbra want to play fetch – aside from carrying a notebook to and fro across the continent, which he’s pretty sure isn’t really the same thing. But hey, maybe it is. Maybe Umbra actually liked playing fetch this whole time, and has grown to miss it now.

“You want me to throw it?” Prompto jumps right in, his voice bright with incredulous joy. Umbra hands him the stick, then turns an expectant stare at Noctis.

“Oh. Right.” He takes the leash off and gives Umbra’s head a rub in exchange. “Finally swallowed your pride, huh?”

The Messenger barks sharply, his message clear: _Don’t push it_.

“All right, let’s go before he changes his mind!” Prompto waves the stick and throws it as far as he can down the empty lane. Umbra takes off after it, skidding on the loose stones and half-beaten ground. He meets Prompto halfway on the way back, but doesn’t relinquish his prize, gracefully dancing out of reach whenever Prompto makes a grab for it. When he finally lets go, it’s only after a brief but fierce tug of war. With his mouth free, he turns back to Noct and lets out a loud, urgent bark.

Noctis smiles, and gets up to join them.


	11. Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for Bramblepelt - sorry to keep you waiting! Here's some MT!Prompto for getting Donna Lewis stuck in my head for a whole week.  
> "You've got the most unbelievable blue eyes I've ever seen."

So far, it’s the most confusing week in the unit’s memory.

The air around the campsite swirls with smells he doesn’t recognize. They come from the steaming container over the fire, so they mean food – he knows that now. Even though it doesn’t make sense, because it smells different than the day before, and before that. But he’s sure, because it always makes his stomach feel the same: strange, though not in a bad way.

The first time he consumed human provisions, it _was_ bad. They felt good on his mouth sensors, but then his entire system suddenly felt very, very wrong. So wrong that it caused him to convulse and spill oily black substance from his facial orifices for the rest of the evening, and through most of that night.

The humans were displeased. The tall menacing one gave him something to drink that stopped him from spilling, and then made a lot of notes for a long time. They repeated the test the next day, and then again, and again. They’ve repeated it every day so far – but nothing like that has happened again. It’s only felt good since then.

He wonders when these tests will conclude. Nothing has happened, so maybe the humans haven’t gathered sufficient data yet. Quietly, he hopes they will keep testing. The provisions they give him feel really good. Not anything like the tests back at the facility.

He tries not to think about how the facility would have handled a full system failure like that one.

Fortunately, by now the only defective part of him are his arms. The humans have bound them with rope and bandages when they first came upon him; now, only the bandages remain, wrapped tight over the gashes from when he tried to remove his armour.

At first, they leaked the same black oily substance, which made the humans very agitated. They seem more composed now that he leaks red. He’s still leaking, though, and the big menacing one keeps changing the bandages every day so they’re fresh and clean.

He hasn’t figured out yet what these humans – these Lucians – are planning to do with him. It seems like maybe there is no plan yet. So far, their behaviour is very self-contradictory. They have captured him, instead of eliminating him right away. Then they made his system fail, but weren’t pleased when it did. So he’s not sure whether or not they want to eliminate him. It’s confusing.

The smells grow stronger now, drifting over the campsite in a warm wave. The tall menacing one stifles the flames under the container and starts to ration out the food. Once the bowls are full, one of the others grabs two and heads his way to start the testing.

This time, it’s not either of the menacing ones.

He holds the air inside him as the human – Noct, the others have called him – leans over and hands him the bowl. His fingers are warm to the touch when they graze his skin. He’s never come this close before.

The unit stares, because for some reason it’s suddenly really hard to look away. He doesn’t _want_ to look away. Or maybe he does. Staring like this is confusing. It’s making his stomach feel strange, in a whole different way than the smell rising from the bowl in front of him.

Noct stares back at him – and frowns. “Whoa.”

“What’s up?” the big menacing one calls, immediately alert.

“No, nothing.” Noct waves his hand and turns back to him. “Sorry, it’s just. You’ve got… the most unbelievable blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

The big one snorts. Noct pays him no attention. He keeps staring, his frown growing deeper.

He’s waiting for a response, the unit realizes.

He doesn’t know the appropriate response.

“Blue?” he repeats uncertainly.

“Yeah.” Noct waves his hand again. “You know, the colour?”

The unit knows about colours. There are three – yellow, orange, and red – corresponding to the alert codes at the facility. He has no idea what _blue_ signifies, or any point of reference for the codes used out here in Lucis.

That’s all right, though. If it pertains to him, it must have a low priority status.

He must have timed out on the response again, because Noct gives him another long look. “I mean. Like the sky,” he says impatiently, and points upwards.

The unit follows his finger with his eyes. There’s the sky – the empty stretch of air high over their heads. It looks different than earlier this morning, when it was full of wispy, patchy dark shapes that moved slowly from side to side. He couldn’t stop looking at it then. He can’t stop looking at it now. It’s like a brilliant dome of completely smooth, clear ice.

So this is what _blue_ means.

He was right: it must signify a low priority status. There is no sense of urgency as he continues to look at it. It makes his breathing function slow down, and he feels like when he’s about to slip into sleep mode. But he doesn’t. He keeps looking, and the longer he looks, the less he understands.

It’s not possible that something in him could be similar to _this_ – is it?

“They’re really… like that?”

His voice comes out not quite right, but Noct still catches it.

“Yeah,” he says. “Well, not exactly, that’s why they’re so strange. It’s more like – wait a minute, you mean you didn’t know? You’ve never seen your face?”

He shakes his head slowly, and watches Noct’s eyes fly wide open.

“Hold on.” Noct leaps to his feet and goes to the table with the flames where the tall one prepared the food. He grabs one of the containers – the round, shallow one with a long handle – and turns it bottom up in front of the unit. “Here, look.”

So he looks.

The metal surface is polished smooth, reflecting the bright light from above, the jagged rock behind him, and –

He _looks_.

The face in the reflection – _his_ face – gapes back at him. He touches his cheek, poking at the tiny dots that don’t seem to follow any sort of pattern in their placement. His hair is light, different than the humans’ – of course – and his eyes –

Noct was right. They are similar to the sky. He can see it now, and it makes his chest hurt in a strange way. He peers closer, until his nose touches the cold metal. There’s something else at the bottom of this _blue_ , something he doesn’t know the name of, that makes him think of the harsh lights at the facility and syringes filled with dark ichor.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to think about it now.

“Hey,” Noct’s voice drifts in from far away.

His head snaps back up, reeling.

“You okay?” Noct asks. His face is very close, even closer than before. Closer than anyone has ever been. “Sorry, I didn’t— it’s probably a lot, huh?”

He nods, swallows the thick spittle coating the inside of his mouth. Noct is still looking at him, and he looks at Noct too, because that’s easier than looking at the face in the reflection.

And then, he notices something.

“Your eyes are blue, too.”

“Oh.” Noct blinks, his eyebrows rising. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

He must have been wrong about _blue_ , then. Of course he was wrong. It must be important after all. But then why—

He doesn’t understand anymore.

“What does it mean?”

Noct’s mouth twitches before he answers, and his answer is easily the most confusing thing of all.

“It means we’re the same.”


	12. Rival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter prompt fill for star54kar (yes, I'm slow; yes, I'm sorry).  
> "Noctis and Prompto go to the arcade together for the first time. Noct discovers his new best friend is also his arcade high score arch nemesis."

The arcade is busy, as it usually is this time of day. The blinking lights over the counter bathe the interior in a familiar rainbow glow, and the machines all around blare with a cacophony of synthesized beeping that Noctis almost knows by heart.

And yet, today it all feels a little different.

“Sorry for the wait!” Prompto springs up behind his back, rattling the tokens in his hands. “Man, getting these already feels like my first win here today. That line was crazy!”

“Let’s hope you didn’t use up all your luck for that.” Noctis smirks, earning himself an elbow to the side and a ridiculous grin from his new friend.

They step away from the counter, their arms linked so they don’t get separated in the throng of people. Noctis’s stomach does a nervous flip, just like every time Prompto invites himself so casually into his personal bubble. It feels so _natural_ , even though they’ve only known each other for a few weeks. It’s a little frightening.

“So, where to first?” he asks, forcing his voice to sound normal.

“Maybe… over there?” Prompto points at one of the newer machines, where a spot has just opened up. “That’s my favourite.”

“Sure.” By now, Noct’s gut had turned into a full on windmill. It’s embarrassing how excited he is to find out Prompto has the same taste.

There shouldn’t be anything surprising about that – _Justice Monsters V_ is a great game. It’s Noct’s favourite, too. And he’s damn good at it. Last week he managed to claim the entire high score board, and keep it that way for almost five days straight.

But he doesn’t mention any of that. He doesn’t want to sound like he’s bragging.

And it’s a good thing he doesn’t, because when they reach the machine, it quickly turns out there’s nothing to brag about anymore.

The scoreboard looks nothing like he has left it last time. Sure, he’s still there – the lower part of the list proudly displays _NLC_ all the way down. But the first four slots have been taken over. _Again_.

Noctis glares at the all-too-familiar initials. He’s seen them enough in the past couple months. Whenever he finds his hard earned scores pushed down, it’s always the same guy. It’s like he’s targeting him on purpose – which, fair enough, because on his part, Noct has definitely sworn to wipe him off the board. The guy’s pissing him off. Clearly he has too much free time on his hands, and not enough decency to know when to stop. And he signs himself as _PRO_ , the arrogant asshole.

Whatever. Noctis isn’t going to let him ruin his day. Not today – not when he finally gets to have fun in good company like a normal person for once. He’ll take care of it. He’ll have his turn next and beat this slick bastard _so hard_ that he’ll never see his name again.

And maybe look cool while doing it, too, and show off in front of Prompto with some sick combos. Not that it matters.

For now, he settles for watching his friend take the controls. It’s a sight to behold. Prompto clears the first three levels with a perfect score, leading his character with a steady hand of a seasoned player. He barely blinks through it all – and Noct can tell, because he keeps his own eyes glued to him just as intently.

If he didn’t already suspect he might have a bit of a crush, he’s pretty sure now.

He holds his breath as Prompto’s score rises with every move of the joystick. Soon it matches some of Noct’s best results – and keeps climbing. But Noct is too mesmerized to care about losing another spot. Hell, Prompto can have them all. He clearly deserves them, and Noct can’t help this weird sense of pride that blooms in his chest.

Together, they’ll be unbeatable. Dream team. They’ll knock _PRO_ off the high score board in no time, and claim it all for themselves for good.

The pleasant daydream is cut short by the _Game Over_ buzz. Noctis groans with sympathy, but Prompto takes it in stride. He even lets out an adorable victorious whoop, chipper as ever as the game prompts him to enter his initials.

… _His initials_.

Noctis gapes over Prompto’s shoulder, watching the three most despicable letters pop up on the screen, right below his own personal best. No, it can’t be. This must be just a coincidence, right? There’s no way—

“Dang, I almost had it this time, too. You sure are hard to beat, buddy.” Prompto turns to him with a beaming smile. It fades as soon as he meets Noct’s eyes. “Hey… Something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Noctis says quickly. He hates to see that smile gone because of _him_. Damn his bruised ego. “So _you’re_ the one who’s been challenging my scores for the last three months?”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out like an accusation. But, well. It kind of does.

“Uhh… Yeah.” Prompto looks away, his head hung low. “I wanted to talk to you for a while, but I didn’t have the courage. So… I thought maybe I’d try to impress you first. I was hoping you’d notice.”

“I noticed all right,” Noctis says. “I kinda wanted to obliterate you.”

Prompto shakes his head with a snort. “Right. Should’ve figured out that antagonizing people isn’t the best way to make friends.”

He looks so small, hunched in that player seat. Noctis could kick himself right now.

“It's fine,” he says. “I mean, I thought it was just some competitive jerk.” _Pot, meet kettle_. “But if it’s you… I can take it. You're really good.”

“Yeah?” Prompto’s head snaps back up, and the hope that shines in his eyes is almost blinding.

“Yeah.” Noctis gives him a light punch on the shoulder, and lets his hand linger. “Just don’t think that means I’ll go easy on you. It’s nice to finally find a worthy opponent.”

“You’re _on!_ ” Prompto calls, jumping out of the seat to drag him in his place. The smile is back in full force now, bright and warm enough to make Noctis melt on the inside.

He’s going to mess up this run completely, and he couldn’t care less.


	13. "I think I love you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter prompt fill for Chocoloco - wow, this took way longer than I expected. I hope you'll like it anyway ^^"  
> "Hey Prom, I think I love you."

It’s already dark by the time Noctis gets back home.

Peeling himself out of his stuffy suit jacket easily counts as the best thing that’s happened to him all day. The shoes come off next, the stiff leather finally releasing its bite on his skin. Noctis isn’t sure where they land when he kicks them off, and he really doesn’t care.

He pads into the living room on sore feet, not bothering to turn on the light. Through the window, the night cityscape blinks at him with streetlamps and neons. The twin towers of the Citadel loom over it, haunting him from the distance – as if all the time he spent there today still wasn’t enough.

Noctis throws himself onto the couch and buries his face in the cushion so he doesn’t see it.

A buzz in his pocket is the only thing that keeps him from falling asleep right then and there. Reluctantly, he pulls his phone out and squints at the screen, the sudden brightness needling at his headache.

It’s a text from Prompto – another one in a long queue of unread messages. Noctis scrolls through them, slowly catching up after a full day off the grid. There are some quick status updates on class stuff, a screenshot with a new achievement in King’s Knight, some typical bored Prompto chatter, and two photos of the cat that lives across the street from him. Noctis smiles, the tension in his body melting away a little.

He starts to type a reply, but his head feels like filled with cotton. He can’t gather his thoughts. After deleting everything for the fifth time, he gives up and simply shoots back a smiling emoji instead. The three dots on the other end pick up almost immediately, and Noctis’s stomach twists into a guilty knot.

He hopes that this time, too, Prompto will understand. He always does. Whenever Noct is tired or overwhelmed or stressed out, Prompto _gets it_. He never pushes him, and never holds it against him when Noctis doesn’t have time or energy for anything, even if it’s as dumb as replying to a text.

While Prompto is still typing, Noctis scrolls back up to the cat pictures. One of them is a selfie attempt, with half of Prompto’s grinning face squeezed in the frame. Noctis swipes over it absently, his thumb smoothing the freckled cheek.

The sudden doorbell almost makes him drop the phone on his face.

“It’s open,” Noctis calls. It _shouldn’t_ be, but he doesn’t always have it in him to remember about every single safety precaution he’s supposed to be taking. Besides, those guards posted throughout the building are there for something, after all.

He hears the door open and braces himself for the chewing out that Ignis or Gladio – whichever one of them it must be – are definitely about to drop on him. Instead, he’s greeted by another familiar voice, a surprised yelp and a stifled curse. Prompto. Tripping over Noctis’s shoes, no doubt.

The light switch clicks and the living room floods with low ambient light from the LEDs. Noctis blinks and rubs at his eyes. When he opens them again, Prompto is right next to him, standing by the couch with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey there, dude,” he says with a shy smile. “Good to see you’re alive.”

“Just barely.” Noctis smiles back, even as his eyebrows knit in confusion. “What are you doing here? You were just texting me a minute ago.”

“Right…” Prompto scratches his neck, visibly embarrassed. “I’ve been taking some night photos in the park. I was going to ask if I could drop by, but before I got it out, I was already almost here. Sorry about that.”

“No sweat,” Noctis says quickly. “It’s good to see you, too.” He means it. Missing school wouldn’t be half that bad if it didn’t mean missing Prompto as well.

“You didn’t come today, so I thought I’d check on you,” Prompto explains, crouching down so his face is level with Noct’s. “You look exhausted. Everything okay?”

Noctis winces. “Yeah, just… Got swept up with stuff at the Citadel this morning. Sorry I left you hanging. They rescheduled it at the last damn moment.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I get it.” Prompto gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The touch fills Noctis with a warm feeling that washes over his body from head to toes, tingling and wonderful.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

Prompto pats him again and starts to dig in his backpack. “I brought you our homework, by the way. You don’t have to do it all right away, I marked the stuff that we _really_ need for next week. The rest is skippable.”

“Not with Ignis around,” Noctis huffs. “He’s gonna push me to do it sooner or later. But that helps a lot. You’re the best.” He gives Prompto a smile that’s maybe a little too soft, but he doesn’t care. Maybe it can pass in the low light.

“I try, dude.” Prompto laughs sheepishly. “Oh, and I can let you copy my Algebra if you want. Since it’s kind of the point for everyone to get the same answers, anyway.”

“Prom…” Noctis sighs, overflowing with gratitude as he looks up at his friend. “I think I love you.”

“Awww. You _think?_ ” Prompto repeats with a teasing smile, and only _then_ it hits Noctis what he’s just said.

“Shut up,” he groans, pressing his hands over his burning face.

Prompto catches his wrists and tugs them away, gently but insistently. He keeps his grip firm with warm fingers, even as they start twitching a little.

“Well… Then I guess I need to try harder to make you sure,” he says, his voice soft and uncharacteristically serious.

Noctis forces himself to meet his eyes, pupils blown in the dimness. He’s never seen Prompto look at him like this – but maybe he did. It’s the same look that Noctis sometimes gives him too when he knows Prompto can’t see it.

Carefully, he slips his fingers between Prompto’s and lifts them to his lips, pressing a light kiss to his knuckles.

“You just did.”

For a moment, his racing heartbeat is the loudest thing in the room. Then, Prompto leans forward and plants a kiss on his forehead, his breath a calm breeze in Noctis’s hair as it lingers.

Yes, he’s never been more sure of anything.


End file.
